


THOU ART... MY LOVE

by ksstarfire



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Christmas, Love, M/M, Presents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 18:48:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9085231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ksstarfire/pseuds/ksstarfire
Summary: Hutch has a special Christmas present for Starsky





	

“What are you doing?”

Starsky stood up quickly and hit his head on the rod holding Hutch’s clothes. He grabbed his head and rubbed it with both hands. “Owww! What did you do that for?”

“I did it because you were practically standing on your head in MY closet. So again, what are you doing?”

“I… uh… I was… looking for a shirt I loaned you.”

“When?”

“When what?”

“When did you loan me a shirt? And what did it look like?”

“It was that shirt that looked really good on you.” Starsky beamed his thousand megawatt smile at Hutch.

“Look, buddy we both know why you’re in my closet.”

“We do?”

“Yeah, we do.”

“Then why did you ask me what I was doing in your closet?”

Hutch gave up. He never could keep up with Starsky’s logic. “Your present isn’t in the house. So you might as well stop looking for it.”

Starsky’s face fell. “It’s not?” He looked at the mess he’d made digging through the bottom of the closet. He looked back at Hutch. “You didn’t plant another tree somewhere in my name…did you?”

“No, buddy. No more trees.”

“Another star named after me?”

“Nope. One ‘StarSky’ star is enough to light up the entire night sky.”

Starsky was almost sidetracked by the image those words brought to his mind. “Aww Hutch, that was downright poetic. But where’s my present?”

Hutch laughed. There was no one more determined than his partner when it came to ferreting out his Christmas presents. “Christmas is only two days away. You’ll find out then.”

“But Hutch…”

“Come on, gordo. I’ll take you out for some tacos to make it up to you.”

That megawatt smile made a re-appearance. “All right!!”

They went to Starsky’s favorite Mexican restaurant to eat. Hutch even bent his rigid standards enough to have a flour taco. They shared an order of cheddar peppers and discussed what they wanted to do over the days they had off for Christmas.

“I think we should go someplace warm. Get away from the cold weather here.”

“Starsk, it only gets down to 60 degrees here at night, in the 70’s during the day.”

“Yeah, like I said, get away from the cold.”

Hutch just laughed.

“Uh. Hutch?”

“Yeah?”

“What did you get me for Christmas?”

“Presents are supposed to be a surprise.”

“Well, I know that. But can’t you give me a hint?” Starsky watched as a blush spread across Hutch’s fair skin. “How come you’re blushing?”

“I’m not blushing. It’s the hot sauce on this taco.”

“Yeah, right.”

Hutch changed the subject and kept his partner occupied with their usual banter until the topic of Starsky’s present was forgotten. At least for now.

“You’re sure it’s all arranged?” Hutch was more nervous that he could remember being in some time, but he didn’t show it. “I want… I need this to go perfectly. It’s very important to me.”

“Everything is arranged, Mr. Hutchinson. The Bay City Art Gallery is very happy to have your patronage and to be able to pay you back for the… sizable donation you made. And for securing the painting to be a permanent part of our collection. We’ve had quite a few calls asking if it is true and, if so, when the painting might be seen.”

Hutch looked sharply at the man. “This… my donation… everything… is contingent on this remaining a secret until after Christmas.”

“Of course, Mr. Hutchinson. It’s just that a priceless painting like this one… well, rumors do occur. I can assure you, Sir, the Bay City Art Gallery has had NO part in creating or encouraging the rumors. Nor have we responded in any way to the rumors.”

“That’s good, because I would hate to have to withdraw my donation from this gallery and find another to give it to. Am I clear on that, Mr. Rossman?” Hutch rarely had reason to call on the long history of aristocracy woven through the Hutchinson family tree, but when prompted, he could do “haughty” with the best of them.

“Yes, yes, Mr. Hutchinson. Very clear. I assure you I will personally speak to everyone involved in this venture. No one will know, until you are ready to release that information.”

Hutch could see the fine sheen of sweat on Mr. Rossman’s face. He smiled to himself and nodded at the man. “My keys?”

“I would be most happy to meet you here at any time you…”

“My keys, Mr. Rossman. I thought this was understood?” Again the eyebrow went up along with the Hutchinson chin.

“Yes, of course.” The man’s hand trembled as he withdrew a small set of keys from his pocket and handed them over to Hutch.

“Thank you. Now, I would like to see the room, make sure all is as I requested.” It wasn’t a question, and Hutch didn’t phrase it that way. He followed Rossman into the center of the gallery.

“Perfect. And we will be alone here.” Again, not a question.

“There will be a security guard…”

“Who will, of course remain in his office, watching his monitors… except for the one in this room.” Hutch was getting quite good at these “questions that weren’t questions” thing. He almost allowed a smile.

“Mr… Mr. Hutchinson. Surely you are aware of the value of this painting and the need for security…”

“What I am aware of, Rossman, is that this painting will be guarded at all times by two of Bay City’s finest detectives. What I am also aware of is that YOU approved my request, unconditionally. Is that not correct?”

“It is. My apologies, Sir. I will instruct the guard to leave the cameras off in this room.”

“All other arrangements are in order?”

“Of course, Sir.”

“Very good, Mr. Rossman. I will return the keys to you on the afternoon of the 26th as we agreed. I am most pleased with your cooperation.”

Hutch walked very quickly out of the gallery and got into his battered LTD. He started to laugh as soon as he shut the door and turned on the ignition. The look on Rossman’s face when he saw Hutch’s car was beyond priceless.

“Huuutch! It’s Christmas Eve. Where are we going? Everything’s closed.”

“Not everything.”

“But, Hutch…”

“Patience, love. Do you even know the meaning of the word?”

“Yeah, it means ‘let’s drive Starsky crazy’.”

Hutch laughed and reached out to ruffle the chestnut curls that never ceased to fascinate him with their softness and the way they clung to his fingers. “Come on, we have someplace we need to be.” He wrapped his arm around Starsky’s shoulder and pulled him out the door and over to the Torino.

“How come I can’t drive?”

“Because you don’t know where we’re going.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“Where ARE we going?”

“Starsky!”

“Hmmmmppfffttt.” Starsky got in the passenger’s side and sank low in the seat. “You SURE you didn’t get me another tree?”

“I’m sure, Starsk. No more trees.”

When Hutch brought the Torino to a halt in back of the art museum and turned it off, Starsky looked at him. “What’re we doing here? It’s almost Christmas; it’s closed.”

Hutch got out of the car and walked around to open Starsky’s door. “Come on, babe. He put his hand out and took Starsky’s to pull him out of the car.

“But, Hutch! I thought we were going to get something to eat?”

With Starsky standing there looking adorably confused, Hutch went to the trunk, opened it, and pulled out a blanket-covered basket. He walked back to Starsky and took him by the arm. He started walking toward the back entrance of the museum, tugging his partner along with him.

“Hutch? What are we doing here? What’s in the basket? Are we going to break in to the museum?”

“It’s not breaking in if you have the keys.” Hutch handed the basket to Starsky, pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and opened the back door. He punched in a code on the alarm panel then took the basket back from Starsky who just stood there with a confused look on his face. “Come on, love, it’s okay; it really is.” He reached back and pulled Starsky inside.

There were subtle lights on in the hallways, but it was still fairly dark. Starsky moved up right behind him. “It’s kinda creepy in here at night! Why are we here, Hutch?”

“There’s that problem you have with patience again. I know you trust me, so why are you acting like you’re afraid of the dark?”

Starsky stepped back. “I am NOT afraid of the dark! I was just afraid I might trip on some priceless work of art and break it.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For calling me a ‘priceless work of art’.”

“What?”

“You were walking right on my heels, so the only thing you would have tripped over would have been me.”

“Oh, well, you’re welcome. Now can we get outta here?”

“Not yet. I wanna show you something.” Hutch kept walking through the hallways, turning right then left until he came to the room he was seeking. There were no lights on in the room. He pulled a small flashlight from his pocket and turned it on. “Starsk, I need you to stand here with your eyes closed until I tell you to open them. Will you do that for me? Please? It’s important.”

Starsky looked into his partner’s eyes for a few seconds. It was dark in the hallway but there was enough light for him to see Hutch’s clear blue eyes. “Yeah, just hurry. I still think this is creepy.”

Hutch stepped into the room and spread the blanket on the floor. He took the battery powered candles out of the basket and sat them around the blanket. He put the food out on one side and a bottle of champagne, complete with a bucket of ice and two glasses beside the food. He checked that everything was ready and walked over to the wall where he turned on the soft lighting that accented the painting that was hung there. He looked at the bronze tag beneath the painting and smiled, hoping the sentiment engraved there would be the truth.

“Okay, Starsk, you can open your eyes now.”

Starsky opened his eyes and saw the smile on Hutch’s face. Then he looked around the room from the doorway. He saw the blanket, food, and candles in the middle of the floor. Then he saw the painting on the wall directly in front of him. He stood still, holding his breath as his eyes took in the sight, not really believing what he was seeing. “Hutch?? Is that… the real… painting?” He tore his eyes off it and turned to Hutch.

“Yeah, lover, it is. Merry Christmas. That’s your present. Well, at least the start of it. Go read the plaque under it.” He pulled Starsky into the room and gave him a gentle shove toward the painting. “I knew you liked it. But I like it, too. It reminds me of us.

“The flowers are what we are. You can’t tell who is giving the flowers or who is receiving them. It’s a back and forth. Just like with us. The flowers are ‘love’.” Hutch stopped, embarrassed at what he had revealed.

Starsky couldn’t take his eyes off the painting. He walked over and stood directly in front of it. The usual ropes that kept visitors at least five feet from the art work were off to the side. He was able to stand close to it. He looked at it from top to bottom, side to side. Then his eyes fell on the gold plaque below it. His eyes welled as he heard what Hutch said and read what was engraved there.

“Mains aux Fleurs – Pablo Piccaso”

“To S. from H. Now you can see it any time you like.

For my friend, my partner, my love.

FOREVER

ME AND THEE

Love, Christmas, 1980.”

“How… what?” Starsky stood in front of the painting, staring intently at it. “I can see the brush strokes! Hutch? I don’t understand.” He turned to look at Hutch then turned back to the painting.

“Do you remember me telling you about my Aunt Florence?”

“The crazy aunt no one ever talks about?”

“That would be the one. She died. And apparently she remembered me being kind to her when I was a kid. I would open doors for her and, when she got arthritis really bad, I would help her get up from her chair and walk with her holding onto my arm.”

“Yeah? And?”

“And she left me a small bequest in her will.”

“How small?” When Hutch didn’t answer right away Starsky pried his eyes off the painting and turned to face his partner. “How small, Hutch?”

“Uhhh… “ Hutch coughed and at the same time said, “Twenty million.”

Starsky stared at Hutch. “Twe… twe… did you say ‘twenty’? Million?”

“Yeah.”

“I think I’m going to pass out!”

Hutch quickly walked over to Starsky and led him to the blanket and helped him sit down.

“Hutch? What are we… you gonna do with… twenty million dollars?”

Starsky was still looking a little pale so Hutch sat down beside him and pulled him into his lap. He took Starsky’s face in his hands and turned it to his. He took his mouth in a deep, all-consuming kiss. When he felt Starsky’s arms come around him and his mouth responding, he eased up slightly. He broke the kiss and told Starsky to open his eyes. “You okay?”

“Why didn’t you tell me? When did this happen?”

“I got the call three weeks ago. I was going to tell you right away, but it takes time for this to go through the channels. I had to wait to be sure there weren’t any challenges to the will. Not that I thought there would be. Aunt Florence may have been eccentric, but she had the sharpest mind and best team of lawyers of anyone in the Hutchinson family. Then I wanted to get you the perfect Christmas present.”

“But, Hutch…”

Hutch silenced him with another kiss. “I knew you liked this painting, so I started doing some research and making calls. Turns out the painting was looking for a permanent home. A little money in the right hands and voila… it now resides here.”

“Forever?”

“Forever.”

“Wow, Hutch! This is the greatest Christmas present ever! But…?” He looked back up the painting, smiling.

“No, it didn’t take all the money, mushbrain, if that’s what you wanted to know.”

Starsky nodded, blushing.

“That’s not the end of your presents, love.”

“It’s not?!” Starsky beamed at Hutch. His face looking like a kid who’d just been told he could have anything he wanted in the candy store.

“Not even close. But first we need to eat!” He pulled the basket over and took out the food he had packed. Pizza, meatball sandwiches, jello with a can of whipped cream to top it, chips and root beer. He handed Starsky a paper plate and plastic utensils and motioned for him to dig in.

“My faves!”

“Of course. It is YOUR present-day.”

“Have I told you how much I love you, blondie?”

Hutch mumbled, “I’m countin’ on it.”

“What did you say?”

“I said, yeah, you have.”

They ate in companionable silence with Starsky frequently looking at the painting and smiling. When they finished, Hutch packed everything back in the basket and brought out a corkscrew to open the bottle of champagne. He handed Starsky a glass then tilted the bottle to fill it. He filled his own and placed the bottle back in the ice bucket. He lifted his glass to touch against Starsky’s.

“To us.”

“To us.”

Each sipped.

“To Christmas, good times, good friends.” Hutch said.

“What you said.”

Each sipped.

“To you… saying ‘yes’.” Hutch continued.

“To me… what? Saying ‘yes’ to what?”

“To this.” Hutch reached into his pocket and pulled out a blue velvet box. He turned it to face Starsky and opened it. “I love you, David Michael Starsky. Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

He watched as Starsky reached out to take the diamond-studded band from the box. Starsky’s eyes widened at the brilliance of the stones then he looked at him. “Hutch…”

Hutch took a breath. “Simple question, Starsk. I just need a ‘yes’ or ‘no’.”

Starsky slipped the ring on his left hand. With all the love he felt shining in his eyes, he said a simple, “Yes.”

Hutch let out the breath he had been holding. “You have made me the happiest man on Earth!”

“Second happiest… because I’m the happiest. I love you, Hutch. More than you could ever know.”

“Same here, babe. And I do know, because I feel the same way.”

Several long kisses later, Starsky suddenly pulled back.

“What’s wrong, Starsk?”

“How much… how much money is left?”

“Do we need to talk about that right now?”

“Yeah. I think we do.”

“Will you accept enough to keep us both in beer and pizza for the rest of our lives?”

“Uh, no. Spill, blintz. How much?”

“Well, about fifteen I would say.”

“Fifteen thousand?”

“Not exactly.”

“How much… you’re not trying to tell me… million?”

Hutch just nodded.

“What are we gonna do with that much money?”

“I thought we might upgrade our house. Something with a room for your model trains and ships. A greenhouse for me. And extra bedrooms for friends and family when they visit.”

“What about our jobs?”

“We can still work full time. Or drop to part time so we can both study for the captain’s boards. Or we can retire from the streets. Maybe apply to teach at the academy. I think we could both offer a lot of knowledge to the recruits. Knowledge that might keep them alive on the streets.”

“Hutch, you’ve… you’ve given me everything. Chances I never thought to have. Love like I’ve never known before. I’ll do whatever you want to do.”

“No, babe. We’ll talk it out and make the decision together. Just like we’ve always done.”

“Uh, Hutch?”

“Yeah, Starsk?”

“That painting is pretty expensive, huh?”

“Yeah, Starsk, it is.”

“So, are there cameras in this room?”

“Yes.”

Starsky looked a little green so Hutch quickly pointed to the cameras hung near the ceiling in two corners of the room… and the black drop clothes hanging over both. He grinned at Starsky. “Already took care of them.”

They moved the basket and candles off the blanket. They lay down side by side, touching each other through their clothes, until that wasn’t enough for either of them. They slowly peeled each other’s clothing off, touching and kissing each inch of uncovered skin. It didn’t take long until they were both naked and hard.

Starsky started to get on his knees for Hutch, but Hutch stopped him. “I want you,” Hutch said. “I want you to take me. I want you inside and around me, Starsk. Please?”

“Another present?”

“Yeah, buddy. Another present. The first of fifteen million I am gonna give you.”


End file.
